


Smoke without Fire

by Elliva



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Dark, F/M, Macabre
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elliva/pseuds/Elliva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray recalled when he and Egon had done a study on the phenomenon back when they worked at the university. It was a subject rarely touched upon. Ray figured it was because there were so many excuses to explain these events that the occurrences were rarely viewed as being a supernatural disaster. Instead the blame often lay in cigarette smoking or electrical accidents. Ray was not convinced. The events were hardly physically possible and such a phenomenon was beginning to be all too common. He shuttered at the thought of what benevolent force could be the cause such a strange and horrible death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

         Ray ran the misshapen comb frantically through his hair, wincing occasionally as the bristles dug into his scalp. He tossed the comb over his shoulder, thinking to himself that he should really invest in a new one. _What next?_ His big brown eyes quickly and frantically scoped the bathroom vanity and then back to his reflection. _Shave!_ There was no time to shave, and besides he had felt as though the beginnings of what looked like it was to be a promising beard, was very becoming on his rounded face. It made him look older. Either way, shaving when in such a hurry was hardly ever a good idea. Ray recalled doing so once over thirteen years ago, when he was late for an interview when he first applied to the university. He smirked slightly as he remembered Peter scoffing at him as he forgot to remove the small torn bits of toilet paper from the wounds on his face. Ray was always scatter minded. Quite a brilliant mind but sometimes it seemed that it was too busy thinking, calculating and imagining. His mind often lapsed over the more subtle everyday things most people didn’t think twice about.

_Soap. Soap. Where is the stupid soap?_ After fumbling through the cabinet he decided to forget the soap and splashed water on his face. As his eyes squeezed shut he ran his hands frantically across the counter in search of a towel.

“ Good God Ray, at this rate you can forget about making it on time.” Shirley chirped as she picked up a towel from the floor and threw it over in her husband’s direction. Ray quickly wiped his face and dashed around his wife and out the door. Shirley followed him smirking.

Ray got into his truck, fumbling between his seat belt and the half a bagel that was sticking out of his mouth and drooping down to the bottom of his chin.

“Whoa, whoa hold on there champ. Forgetting something?” Shirley stepped out onto the driveway, her bare feet instantly numb from the frozen chipped concrete that lay beneath them. She dangled the keys above her head, the sunlight glinting off the metallic surface, very quickly catching his attention.

“ Ha ha, very funny. Give me that. Well. I guess if I’m late for this it doesn’t matter how late. Why don’t you come with me?” Ray sputtered through the bagel in his mouth.

“Can I get dressed first?” Shirley was rubbing her arms in order to warm them. Ray simply stuck his thumb up into the air, unable to speak as he had stuffed the rest of the piece of bread into his mouth. His already big cheeks were gorged past the point where he could make any audible sounds at all. A hand gesture would have to suffice.

Shirley scurried into the house trying hard to make sure that she didn’t step on anything that would cut into her dainty feet. She closed the door behind her and headed up the stairs to her bedroom.

The two of them shared a large rosy brick home in the countryside of Oregon. It hadn’t been for very long, as it seemed as though the couple had moved to several locations since moving away from New York City, nearly eleven years ago. They had been all over the United States, spending a large portion of the time in the south, just bordering Mexico. They enjoyed visiting the country now and again for sight seeing and even just to enjoy the local cuisine. Since Ray had left New York, he found it hard to stay in one place. Shirley found this very curious, but all together very exciting.

The last place they had lived had not even been in the country. Ray decided it would be an interesting excursion to study the vast spiritual culture of places in South America. Living there was beautiful, yet they became homesick of their own country and decided to move to Origin, where they had met and where Shirley’s family lived. It was very apparent of where they had lived prior to Origin, as both Shirley and Ray had brought back dozens upon dozens of bizarre art pieces, historical pieces and souvenirs from their excursion and plastered them all over the house. Shirley was very much interested in the art, while Ray was fascinated more by the odd little artefacts that were accompanied with extravagant tales of supernatural anecdotes.

Ray cared little for art, while Shirley herself made her life’s career out of it. She hadn’t become very wealthy, in fact weighing the cost of her supplies to her income; she would be better off working minimum wage at a seven eleven. But she adored it. Before the new décor arrivals, the house had been inordinately smothered in odd-looking paintings and sculptures that came in a variety of shapes and sizes and frankly did not look much like their models. With so much clutter in the house, it became increasingly more of a challenge to make it from one room to the next.

Shirley stepped over a sculpture lying on the ground, which had likely been tipped over by their dog. Quickly she took off her bathrobe and slipped into an outfit that would be more suitable to go out into public wearing. She pulled the sweater over her head making her hair cling to her face. Shirley rubbed her face aggressively, and looked into the mirror to make sure there was nothing too horrible on her face and she grabbed her things and left for the door. She had never been the type of girl who enjoyed wearing makeup; in fact, she was quite the tomboy. She quickly got into the passenger seat smiling at her husband who now had remnants of his bagel entangled in his beard.

~*~

 

As they drove the two spoke about their house and the changes the anticipated for it sometime down the road. The house needed a lot of work, yet they had not been sure that they were going to be living in this same house for a while and therefore put off the home renovations.

It was always like that with them. Things were always stated or started but never done. It wasn’t just the house, or the broken windshield of the truck, or the busted washing machine, but bigger things like having children and places that they wanted to visit and things that they wanted to do that were often overlooked or lost with in the hectic, spontaneous nature of their lives. Days would turn into months. Months would turn to years.

It had been seven years coming that they had been married, and for the most part the two of them were very happy. Sometimes Ray could be moody, whiney and childish about some things. As was Shirley bossy and a know it all most of the time. Yet they seemed to overlook these things and remain quite happy being with each other. They appeared to offset the bad qualities in each other with good ones. Ray was very fun, playful and loved to make her laugh. Shirley was very thoughtful and interesting to talk to and often loved to surprise Ray with things just for the fun of it. He loved the way she was so full of imagination and somehow enjoyed her assertiveness. Though it never really got things done like it should.

The interior of the truck grew more and more silent as they approached their destination. The light-hearted hum of conversation that saturated the stuffy enclosed air became still and inaudible. They weren’t hearing each other or the sound of the engine. Their minds were elsewhere.

They stepped through the front door quietly as the large room was hushed, with only the sound of one solitary voice, echoing off of the garish décor and gently slapping every person in the face, bringing them into reality. Through different words it stated; the reality was that death happens and more horrific, it can happen to anyone.

Shirley gripped her husband’s arm shyly as they found a seat at the back of the room, doing their best to remain un-noticed. “ I hate going to funerals,” She whispered ever so delicately, “I don’t get the point.”

“ Then why’d you come?” Ray smirked at her, trying to mimic her soft tone.

“ I had never met your uncle before, I just thought that it was about time I did.” Shirley was trying to manoeuvre her head around the man’s who sat ahead of her in order to see if she could see the dead guy from where they had been sitting.

“ Gee, a little late don’t you think?” Ray put his arm around her, hoping to put a halt to the excessive head moving. “Sit still will ya?”

“ It’s a closed casket. Why ?”

“Why not?”

“Well he certainly wasn’t thinking about others when he died.”

“About you? Why should he? Besides, I think its sick that you get so much enjoyment of seeing a dead body.” People began staring as Ray sank in his chair. “Shh, I don’t want to be noticed.”

“ Embarrassed to be seen with me?” Shirley whispered. She scoped the room to see who had come. Not many faces that she recognised by name but it was certainly apparent that they came from Ray’s family with their wide eyes and round faces.

After the many speeches said through muffled sobs and cracking throats, the funeral had come to an end. A large mass of people headed towards the door. Another mingled either speaking to each other with voices of loss and comfort or that of jovial reminiscence. Ray stood up quickly making his way towards the door.

“ Are you not going to say goodbye?” Shirley questioned turning in her chair to look at her husband who was trying to avoid eye contact with the majority of the people surrounding him.

“Shirley, I don’t know. Can we just get out of here?” Ray said making an awkward, what looked to be waving, gesture to a gentleman across the room.

“ I’m saying goodbye.” Shirley rose from her seat and made her way up to the front of the room.

“ How can you say goodbye! You have never said hello! You’ve never met the guy.” Ray stopped talking realising the just how loud his voice had been. He kept his head low and followed his wife to the front of the room. There she was already looking at the coffin.

“ Goodbye Uncle Bernie. ” She said smugly as she had gotten what she wanted and made her husband follow behind her like a puppy dog with its tail between its legs. A few older people also stood at the front glimpsing at the pictures on display or gently running their hand across the box as they passed through. “Poor, poor man.” She attempted her best to look like she was grieving but it was hard to feel anything at all when it had been someone you hadn’t met. Especially, she figured with a closed casket. It was harder to accept that there was in fact a corpse in their presence. Her mind drifted imagining what if the man had not been dead at all and only faking it. Maybe the old man is in Portico or something with the warm sun on his back and a woman on each arm. Starting a new life in his old shell of a body.

Ray seemed out of place. At least Shirley along with most people seemed as though they were grieving. This was his own uncle and he seemed to show no sentiments toward the event at all. He looked as if he was annoyed, waiting for the doctor to let him in for his appointment.

“I’m so sorry.” An older woman approached Ray with tears in her eyes. She was accompanied with Rays dear Aunt Lois whom Ray was quite close with. In fact the only relative that Ray really liked. She had raised Ray since he was quite young, since the bizarre incident with his parents. “ My name is Mary Wetterlund, I was a good friend of your uncle my boy. Oh what a sad, sad event. It seemed like yesterday that we were here mourning the loss of your dear parents. My, my you are strong not to cry like that. I don’t recall you crying for your own parent’s funeral now that I think back. I’m sorry I must be quite rude. Excuse me.”

“ Not at all,” Ray glanced over at Aunt Lois and smiled at the older women, “ Personally I know that ‘life’ or at least free thought and animation are not interrupted by death but rather in many cases, the being is just shifted to a different physical realm.”

“ Heaven?” The old woman asked her eyes wide.

“ No.” Ray laughed, “Another cross dimensional vortex I think. At least that’s what my old career had lead me to conclude.”

The women noticeably offended by the atheist nonsense shook her head slightly. “What on earth did you use to do for a living?”

Aunt Lois opened her mouth about to speak when Shirley interrupted. “ He wasn’t on earth Mrs. Wetterlund. It has only been in the last eleven years that I have managed to keep him grounded. “


	2. Chapter 2

It was true. There was no denying that Ray really did miss his old job. There wasn’t a month that had gone bye without at least one dream about it. He could still feel how it was like to carry the weight of the proton pack on his back and have the slight heat from the powerful particle beams that would shoot out only inches away from his hand. Everyday was different. His life was exciting. The thirst for the feeling of adrenaline running through his veins became stronger as time progressed. He almost felt as though his mind had began to lag without the stimulation it took to ingeniously create and maintain equipment, and logistically decipher ways out of a tricky situation. It was very difficult, especially in the early years to remember that the ghostbusting career path will forever be behind him and he would need to move on. Yet still to the day, Ray spent much of his free time building parts to equipment that would forever be doomed to rest in a box in the garage. Though he would never use them, Ray still felt obliged to make sure that all his gadgets were fully functional. That satisfaction alone helped him deal with the lost part of his life.

 

Ray was the second last member to leave the firehouse. Egon had insisted on staying even as everyone else had moved out because he had said that he wanted to watch over the containment unit. If it were to fall into the wrong hands it would be devastating for the whole world. Yet Ray, along with the others knew that this was not a full explanation. Though Egon seemed to be the most unfeeling of the four men in the firehouse, he was the most nostalgic. Not only did he express this through his dated hairstyle and clothing, but for his love of old things and old times in his life. Ray wouldn’t have ever doubted that Egon would have stayed in that firehouse with or without the containment unit or any threat of the world ending.

 

Ray still managed to keep in touch with Egon every now and again. Either a phone call or a letter would keep them fairly updated on what each other were up to. Ray had very little contact with Winston at all. They used to also call each other to catch up, but increasingly found that things would ‘come up’ and of course this would happen so often that they in the end had stopped talking completely for three years. Peter, Ray was sure, was not keeping contact with any of them. Not with the way he had left the firehouse. He was the first to leave and the only one to leave in a rage.

 

~*~

 

“ I’ve got to go all the way to Portland for my lecture today.” Ray moaned. “A four hour drive Shirley! Just to stand at the front of the room in front of some snooty engineer brats and make a two hour speech about quantum electronics.”

 

“Yeah and you get paid a whole heck of a lot too!” Shirley sat at the table waiting for Ray to finish cooking the breakfast.

 

“ Yeah? Two hundred bucks.”

 

“In one day.” Shirley added.

 

“ I made 250 on a slow day as a Ghostbuster and had ten times as much fun. Make that billions of times. “ Ray pouted as he flopped the pan cake onto the plate.

 

“ We’ll you get to do the next best thing. You get to never get over yourself and have talks about you the good old times for a living. Deal with it.” Shirley grabbed her plate and dragged it across the table towards her. “ Can you pass the syrup?”

 

“You don’t know what its like Shirley. You were always the same thing all your life. You’re an artist! You don’t know what its like to be really important. Me I had a taste of lots of different things and I happed to get a kick out of busting those ecto-plasmic suckers for living. I was a hero. The lives of hundreds of people were in my hands day in and day out. I got to see things that are so beyond human comprehension and ignorance that nobody would ever believe me if I told them. Talking about it isn’t the same at all.” Ray began to get defensive, except like always Shirley maintained oblivious to it.

 

“Syrup.” She repeated sternly. Ray tossed it over to her.

 

“And you can cook the rest of the breakfast. I have to start driving.” Ray said as he puffed his lips and stormed out like a child. Shirley didn’t look up from her plate.

 

Ray got into his truck. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry with her at this time but the anger was bubbling up inside him causing him to loose the sense of rational thought. Maybe a nice long drive was what he needed he thought to himself. Four hours to himself without some bossy know it all to ruin his time. _This will be good._ He grinned as he put his sunglasses on and he was off.

 

Shirley had never been very accepting of Ray’s Ghostbusting past. It made people give them funny looks when Ray spoke about his experiences on the job. It wasn’t that she was not proud of Ray. Many a times he was right, he had saved many peoples lives. She simply believed that things should remain in the past and they didn’t need to be doted upon in every breathing second.

 

Shirley was twenty-eight when she had met Ray. Ray had been two years her junior. They met at a convention back in eighty-six. In brief the couple had met in the day and shared a motel room that night. She wasn’t sure what it was that allowed them to hit it off so quickly. Usually she was very picky with her men. She was quite a plain woman, incredibly thin and lanky, with frizzy dishevelled hair. Ray was sweet in his youth. He had been a tad bit overweight when they met, which she wasn’t crazy about, but she fell or him like a person might fall for a small puppy. Small and utterly useless but so cute and sweet that you would want nothing more then to pet him. She supposed that how it happened with Ray. Ray was exciting, good hearted and a lot of fun to be around. Shirley at the time had been dating a gentleman around that time but still to the day refused to tell Ray about it. She wasn’t a cheater, she would convince herself. She was just with the wrong person.

 

Ray wasn’t a sweet talker. He wasn’t romantic. He reminded her of the boys in summer camp when she was a girl, who would develop crushes on her. The extent of their affection was pulling on her pigtails. That was the kind of lover Ray was. Honest but juvenile.

 

After that day in eighty-six the two stopped talking for a few months before getting together again and after two years the two of them got married. The ceremony was held in Oregon. Most of her family had lived there and Ray didn’t care much for his back in New York. Egon had been his best man. Winston regretfully claimed that he could not make it, as his wife was about to have another baby any day and he feared traveling would be too much of a hassle for her, and he did not want to be so far away and possibly miss the birth. Either way it was clear at that time that they were beginning to be distanced.

 

The wedding was nice. It had been very Scottish themed as both Ray and Shirley’s families were of Scottish heritage. Ray was forced to wear a kilt for his big day, which made him unfortunately feel as pretty as the bride. Shirley’s parents Mr. and Mrs. Duncan had been separated for quite some time. She hadn’t seen her mother since she was seven. Her father remarried and had children with two other women. That made six siblings that Shirley knew about. She didn’t remember much about her mother except for her wild drinking habits. Shirley was never really keen on having kids. With so many younger brothers and sisters to take care of, she figured she had spent enough of her life doing that to quench her thirst. Besides she was thirty-five.

 

Sometimes she wondered about the choices she made, with her career, her self and her husband. There were days that she felt as though she was sent swirling through an invincible torrent if bleak dismal, where she regrets everything down to her very existence. These days came whenever they chose. They didn’t tell her ahead of time when they would stop by and pay her a visit. It was a day like today that he decided to make an unwelcomed appearance.

 

~*~

 

 Ray’s eyes were beginning to shut on their own as for the last five hours straight they were intently glued onto the road. He decided it was better to do the whole ten-hour drive in the same day rather then sleeping at a motel for the night. He hadn’t brought any equipment to work on in order for him to maintain his sanity. Besides, in doing so he would spend quarter of the money he earned working on a place to sleep. He figured that he could easily pull the truck over if he had found it impossible to stay awake and sleep in his truck. He was proud of himself for making it that far. Finally his little farmhouse was in view. And none too soon, his legs had begun to cramp.

 

The gravel crunched under the tires of the old dusty truck and it slowly but eagerly turned up the driveway where it would soon, after a long day’s work, have a rest. Ray stepped out of the truck his legs quivering under the strenuous act of standing after being bent for so long. Ray squatted onto the ground and stood up trying to stretch his aching limbs.  He reached over the driver’s seat and grabbed his brief case. It hadn’t really had anything too important in it. Ray simply liked to carry it around when doing his lectures to make him look important and intelligent. Just as he pulled it out of the truck, it had opened, sending pages flying every which way, flipping through the air and sliding across the drenched grass on his lawn. _Perfect_ he thought to himself. He chased the pages around, stepping on some in order to stop them from venturing elsewhere.

 

In the cool night air of the September night, Ray stopped to feel the stillness around him. Not a single noise could be heard apart from the pages gently taking flight into the darkness. Even the trees seemed silenced regardless of the perpetual wind. He gathered as much of the useless pages, scrunching them in his palms as he attempted to collect them, grabbing tuffs of damp grass with them.  He had only managed to pick up half of the pages when he figured his futile attempts were as pathetic as the phony documents were.

 

Ray dragged his he dragged his feet through the rocky asphalt approaching his house. The house was still and silent. Ray felt a shiver tingle up his spin, making his skin itch and irritable. The windows of the house were black and empty. Ray had been sure that Shirley would have been up waiting for him to return as she always had during these long trips. Yet there was no flickering of blue light in the living room window, nor the muffled sound of infomercials, or whatever else she would have resorted to watch in the early hours of the morning. _Nothing Ray. Stop it’s nothing._ Ray opened the door cautiously. The door screeched disturbing the silence. It was louder then Ray had remembered. Maybe he was just crazy.

 

The interior of the house seemed colder then the exterior and even more quiet. Ray shut the door behind him and proceeded to feel the wall for the light switch. The light flickered on and off before being continuous. This wasn’t new. He would have to do something about that. Ray searched the room with his eyes. _Shirley must have gone to bed,_ he thought as he manoeuvred through the clutter in his living room and headed to the kitchen for a drink of water.

 

The pipes screeched as the water began to flow mercifully into the glass. Ray drank the water slowly letting each precious drop quench the overbearing dryness in his throat. “Shirley.” He called out in a steady tone, not to wake her if she had fallen asleep. No answer. Ray slowly approached the stairway when there was a huge BANG.

 

His stomach rose up to his throat. He yelped despite himself. His already weak legs began quivering uncontrollably as he stepped back. It had only been one of Shirley’s ugly paintings that had been knocked off of the wall. Ray swallowed his stomach back to its place. “Knock it off Ray.” He whispered. He didn’t bother putting the painting back to its place, he simply stepped over it and hurried up the stairs.

 

The hallway was completely black in the darkness, all but one golden shimmer that danced against the reflection casted upon the wooden floor. It was coming from underneath the bedroom doorway. Ray shivered again. “Shirley?” His voice cracked. Ray swallowed, his throat dry and throbbing.

 

He opened the doorway very gently and slowly. As he approached the door, his heart sank as the smell of smoke seeped beneath the crack of the door. Ray panicked; he opened the door quickly smoke. “Shirley!” Ray cried. He frantically flicked on the lights.

 

The room was seemingly untouched, Ray may have thought it normal if he hadn’t noticed the chair in the corner of the room completely blackened with a tiny flame fluttering innocently off of the lamp shade next to it. Ray approached the chair apprehensively, his heart racing about a thousand times a minute. As his eyes trailed to the floor he screamed. There on the floor were Shirley’s size 8 shoes, and her two dainty feet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“ All the arrangements for the funeral are set. Right?” Aunt Lois asked blatantly. At a time like this, it was very hard to strike up small talk.

 

“ I think so.” Ray sniffed.

 

“Well dear. I think you should get some rest, it’s late and tomorrow will be a long day I’m sure.” She eased back into her rocking chair. Aunt Lois was nearly seventy-three, and was beginning to feel it. Ray simply rested his head onto his fist as he pouted. She sounded the same as she did even a few weeks prior, but something about her changed. She became a lot colder.

 

“You don’t really believe that I did anything to hurt her do you?” Ray stammered.

 

“No dear.” Aunt Lois drew her eyes away from Ray. He wasn’t convinced.

 

“ I wasn’t even home.”

 

“I know dear.” She insisted.

 

“ Everyone thinks I did something. The police have interrogated me for days; our family members are acting weird. Everyone is distancing from me. Aunt Lois I want you to honestly know, I would never do anything.” Ray rested his head in his hands.

 

“ It was an accident. Everyone thinks that.” Aunt Lois’s voice became faint.

 

“ But as I’m proving my innocence it doesn’t mean that I don’t think something weird is going on. Gosh, if only you could see the horrible scene I saw. They said it was because she was smoking, but it just doesn’t make sense. It’s just all horribly confusing.” His voice was muffled almost inaudible. Aunt Lois sighed. “ I mean, nothing in the whole room was burnt, just the area where she was supposedly sitting.”

 

“ A coincidence I suppose.” Ray looked up and scrunched his nose at her comment. “ Go to sleep Ray, we will speak about this tomorrow.” Ray helped the old crippling woman from her chair.

 

“ It’s alright. I don’t think there’s a point in trying to get to sleep tonight.” Ray said in a gentle voice.

 

Ray lay down on the couch as soon as his Aunt had gone upstairs to her bed to sleep. He wanted to make sure she didn’t see him put his feet up onto the sofa. Aunt Lois had always been very strict about the furniture. Much of his childhood, he remembered how she had plastic on the couches in order to keep them from getting dirty from the kids. It had only been recently that she had taken the covers off. Ray figured that she probably figured that it was no longer important to keep her furniture in pristine condition considering her age. Accompanied by the fact that there were very few children in the home to mess it up. Ray had two siblings, both of which had children of their own by now, yet both his older brother and sister avoided contact with the family as much as possible. He suspected that his brother Carl returned from his station in the Middle East as a lieutenant in the USAF, and still lived with his wife Ellen and his two sons Geoff and Andrew. They were in their teens by now. His sister Jean, was still living alone someplace in New Jersey, with her daughter Moira. He hadn’t seen let alone talked to either of his siblings in years. Especially Jean.

 

Ray stared out the window. His mind was buzzing. None of this seemed real. Shirley had been alive and breathing two weeks ago, and now she was gone. He didn’t even get to say goodbye. To touch her face one last time. All the fleeting promises of things they should have done or were yet to do was gone like dust in the wind. Scattered in time and space. Ray thought of all the places they had yet to see. All the houses they had yet to buy and then sell. The children they never got to meet. Literally all up in smoke. It didn’t make any sense.  Ray figured that anyone who was grieving would come across the denial stage. But he somehow felt more justified in feeling that way. The fire had touched nothing else in the room. How was that possible? A fire strong enough to reduce a woman to ashes would have engulfed the whole room. Possibly the whole house. How was it that the flame was so concentrated on one spot? On Shirley.  Ray shook his head as the memory of her dismembered feet forced itself into his head.

 

Spontaneous human combustion. Ray recalled when him and Egon had done a study on the phenomenon back when they worked at the university. It was a subject rarely touched upon. Ray figured it was because there were so many excuses to explain these events that the occurrences were rarely viewed as being a supernatural disaster. Instead the blame often lye in cigarette smoking or electrical accidents. Ray was not convinced. The events were hardly physically possible and such a phenomenon was beginning to be all too common. Ray wondered if his dear wife had been one of the hundreds of cases of the phenomenon. He shuttered at the thought of what benevolent force could be the cause such a strange and horrible death.

 

 

~*~

 

 

The funeral was pleasant. Most of her family was there. Some of Ray’s family came as well. Ray couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu. It was not long before that Shirley had been beside her, making remarks about the funeral and insisting to Ray that he should talk to the casket. Now it was her turn, except she had no casket at all. How could she? She was reduced to nothing but a pair of feet still clinging to her shoes.  Much like Shirley had been clinging to her life, Ray imagined. Even the polyester chair that she had been sitting on held up enough resistance to the flames that engulfed her body. Ray decided to cremate the remains. It would be an awful waste to use up a whole casket for such little remains and since half the job was done for him, he figure cremation made the most sense.

 

Even more so then the last funeral, Ray attempted to avoid eye contact with the people who attended. Ray didn’t enjoy taking peoples sympathy. It was awkward and belittling. Ray was either one of two things: ecstatic or grumpy. Very seldom did he stray in between. Ray was distant but not foreign to the feeling of loss and he wasn’t sure how to conduct himself in front of others at this time.

 

“ Ray, this makes me think back to your parent’s funeral. The resemblance is uncanny I must say.” An old woman croaked to Ray as he passed by. Must have been a great Aunt or something.

 

Ray thought back to his parent’s funeral. It was difficult not to as it seemed to be the topic on everyone’s mind and a topic people seemed to love to try to extract some sort of reaction from Ray. They had died such a long time ago. Ray had been quite young, but that day seemed very clear. He thought about the two white polished coffins that were supposed to encase the bodies of the two most important people in Ray’s life. People Ray had to learn to live without. Just like he would now have to live without Shirley. Ray was only ten at the time of his parent’s death and had known very little about it. He remember hearing of it through Aunt Lois, though it was clear prior to receiving the news that it happened as Ray’s parents failed to make it home that night. It wasn’t until four years later that Ray found out details of his parents death. The car that they had been driving had gone off course. Killing the two parents leaving three kids behind.

 

“ I appreciate your empathy.” Ray uttered sarcastically.

 

“Hello Ray.” Uttered a very familiar voice from behind him startled Ray. The person laid a hand on him causing him to immediately turn around and embrace the man who stood there. From all the people in the world, this was the only person Ray wanted to see right now.

 

 

~*~

 

 

            His long fingers seemed to be almost humorous the way they clasped the tiny sugar spoon that stirred the sugar in his coffee. Ray watched, secretly keeping a mental note of his dear friend’s sugar intake. _Three spoons, four spoons, five spoons !_ Ray thought smiling slightly, _that can’t be good for him_. Ray knew Egon well enough to know that it wasn’t only the over abundance of sugar in his coffee that would drive Egon’s sweet tooth. Whether it was a chocolate bar or a pastry of some sort, the sweeter the better. Egon seldom would waste his time with moderately sweet treats. Ray felt soothed with the small familiar memories of his past. However Egon looked a little different then he had remembered. Egon had definitely let himself go over the years. His already lanky body seemed to be thinning out considerably and what was once his perfectly quaff hair was now simply combed back out of pure convenience. He seemed much older and much more tired then he remembered. Ray knew he had to give him some credit for that seeing that he had just flown in from New York. Hence, Egon’s suggestion that they go out for coffee after the funeral had ended, but Egon had also seemed tired in a different way. Ray could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. It was a tiredness he was not familiar with and tiredness he could not quite put his finger on, although at the same time he figured that he might too have the same tired look himself.

 

            Egon sipped his coffee critically, his upper lip softly caressing the top of the mug gently trying to avoid being burned. The two had so much to talk about, so much to catch up on, yet they exchanged few words since the funeral. It didn’t seem an appropriate time to reminisce, at least not about Ghostbusting. Ray watched Egon’s reaction to the repulsive concoction that had been sitting on the table now waiting for his approval. Egon nodded slightly and Ray rolled his eyes affectionately. He would have almost bet that that much sugar would send him to the counter for a refill.

 

            “ So, have you managed to talk to the others lately? Winston, Janine... Peter?” Ray questioned innocently. Egon’s head shot up to the mention of Peter.

 

            “ Winston and Janine yes.” Egon sounded agitated. “They are doing well. Winston wanted to come down himself but it was difficult for him. He told me to express his condolences to you. You can probably expect a call from him soon enough.”

 

            Ray decided it would be smart to drop the subject of Peter Venkman altogether. It would be better not to aggravate Egon over some disputes of the past. He didn’t feel like it now.

“ It feels good to know they were thinking about me.” Ray said quietly.

 

“ Of course Ray.” Egon said matter-of-factly. “ Perhaps you would like to come back to New York with me. You could stay at the firehouse until things get better.” Ray could tell that Egon quickly wanted to retract that statement feeling that he may of sounded a little desperate.

 

“ Thanks Egon. It might be nice to go back to New York. Especially the firehouse. I really missed it you know?” Ray’s voice cracked which startled him.

 

“ I know Ray.” Egon said finally looking up from his cup.

 

“It was great of you to come down Egon. The last people I want to see right now is a Stantz.” Ray muttered as his head dropped onto he table. At this point he so desperately wished that they were at a bar instead of a crummy coffee shop.  

 

“ Your family giving you a difficult time?” Egon asked, encouraging his friend with one had to lift his head from the table.

 

“ Ugh. My family is acting weird around me. Even Aunt Lois seems thrown off but I have no idea why. It’s like they are blaming me Egon. It’s like they think that my profession had something to do with it. The scene was so bizarre. But they can’t hold anything against me. I’d never hurt her! I have a perfect alibi anyways. I was doing a lecture in Portland.” Ray without noticing stood up from his seat.

 

“ Its not like any of that is new to us.” Egon closed his eyes and sighed as he took another sip of his coffee.

 

“ I guess,” Ray started sitting back down in his seat, “ You know, there was a lot going around about my parents today.”

 

“Oh.” Egon inquired.

 

“ Yeah.” Ray answered. He suddenly felt woozy and refused to continue.

 

“Maybe it would be best to go home now Ray.” Egon said concernedly. Ray obliged.

 

 

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
